


Thank You

by lemonlapin



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Professional Wrestling
Genre: Gen, Gunshot Wounds, Vague descriptions of improper medical care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-10-11 00:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20537231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonlapin/pseuds/lemonlapin
Summary: He rides up to your door on a horse with no name half dead and somehow manages to flirt over breakfast the next day.





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> I watched All Out and had to make the cowboy happy somehow.

It seemed like only seconds ago when the world had quieted. Everything from the wind to the birds to the grass held its breath before the sky opened up and wept. Torrential sheets of rain canvassed the plains and made the horizon disappear behind a hazy grey wall. Which made the tickling urge from the base of your skull to stand on your porch all the more puzzling. The only thing out there was something unfortunate and you had no need for an unfortunate soul on your doorstep. Yet somehow you couldn’t look away from inspecting the waves of cloud’s tears, searching for something you didn’t know the shape of. Sure enough, the moment you considered retreating inside, and simply ignoring the strange nagging sensation, a form emerged from the mist.

A man on a horse lethargically lurched up the path to your door, clearly needing some effort to stay upright in the saddle. His head lifted and it seemed as if the moment he could make out the shape of your house his body decided to give out and buckle under the pressure of the rain. You called out while watching him slide down the side of his horse and get unceremoniously dumped into the mud. Sense be damned, you ran into the storm and became instantly soaked. Upon approaching the collapsed stranger, you were surprised to find him struggling with one arm to lift himself to no avail.

The mud clung thickly to your legs as you kneeled to try and scoop around his chest and hoist him standing. His weight swaying on trembling limbs nearly sent you both toppling back into the mud but fortunately his horse moved to support your back so you just had the wind knocked out of you from the impact of an armful of man. Your sharp gasp must have stirred something in him as his head snapped up from limply hanging, leaving you helplessly wading in a crystalline blue that grew foggy with pain every passing second. A puff of hot breath scattered across your cheeks like a wave from a fire before his forehead dropped to rest against your shoulder. There was no room for pondering propriety as you struggled to drag the stranger the rest of the way to your house. Thankfully his horse had the sense to stay close so you could prop the man up against the side of it to get a moment to regain some strength when needed.

Eventually, you managed to get both your soiled and soggy bodies over the threshold and let him flop onto your sofa without a care for the state of the upholstery afterward. He let out a low, long groan that abruptly cut off with a wince that had you on high alert and scrutinizing every inch of him for more practical reasons. When your hand ghosted over his side he let out a sharp hiss and tensed with his entire body. Taking a deep breath, you gingerly peeled away the black leather of his vest to reveal his entire side seeping crimson from a now obvious hole below his ribs. The stranger dared to attempt to swat your hands away and a spike of anger born from worry shot up your spine, granting you enough courage to grab him by the face and make him look at you.

“I’m not too fond of strange men nearly dropping dead on my property but considering you’re almost waving the reaper down I’ll let you stay and you’ll let me fuss.” Your tone left no room for an argument and the stranger held enough wits to recognize such and give a nod. With that you began rushing around your house in search of supplies and returned to find him fighting with his eyelids. Needing him to stay awake, you frantically searched your thoughts for some idea of how to keep him from slipping into sleep.

“Alright nearly dead stranger, you got a name?” You asked while guiding him to sit up, letting him use your arms to steady himself.

“Adam,” He spoke softly, voice hoarse and thick from a combination of disuse and pain.

“Well Adam, you don’t gotta tell me how you got in this shape but I do need to know what shape you’re in,” You began pushing his vest down his shoulders and thankfully he got the hint and shrugged it off before attempting to unbutton his shirt.

“Just the one shot, went through,” a huff left him as he struggled with the tiny buttons thanks to his shaking fingers, “M hungry too. Haven’t eaten in a couple a days.”

“After you stop bleeding on my furniture I’ll feed you,” you promised while taking over the task of stripping him half-naked for purely practical reasons.

He shook his head, which was surprising, “once you’re done fussing I’ll leave. Don’t want to be any trouble.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, letting your fingertips drag across his stomach again for purely practical reasons before speaking up, “a little late for that. Good for you I’m not the type of person to just kick someone who needs help out into the rain. You’re staying at least until the storm passes.” A small and rueful smile crept across his features that highlighted how handsome he was under all that mud and you were struck with the thought that Adam was an unexpected kind of trouble on top of being hurt.

“I’m in no place to refuse some charity, I suppose,” he grimaced as you began cleaning the skin around his wound. The conversation died as you focused on treating the gunshot and he kept his pained noises to deep breaths and the occasional strained grunt. Once both sides were sufficiently clean and gauzes placed, you began the process of wrapping the bandages, this time letting your fingertips drag across certain segments of skin for less than practical purposes. Adam didn’t seem to notice as his head lolled to the side and his breathing evened out after you finished poking and prodding at the raw and sensitive injured skin. You gently guided him to settle on his side once you secured the bandages and found yourself wiping away some of the mud from his face with a cloth and warm water.

As you revealed more of his features the fact that Adam was Trouble became more and more apparent and you had to give a little sigh. Of course, the world would find it apt to dump a helpless and handsome man at your literal doorstep. He shifted to nuzzle further into the cushions and a ripple of curls fell across his face, without thought you reached up and tucked them back in place behind his head. When your hand retreated, you found yourself swimming in a sharp blue as rich as the midsummer sky and your breath caught in the back of your throat from the intensity of his focused stare that ebbed into warm pools.

“Thank you,” Adam mumbled, barely above a whisper as his eyelids fell and remained closed.

“You’re welcome,” You replied in the same hushed tone before moving to stand and search for a blanket to cover him in, missing the faint, gentle smile that appeared on his face for only a moment.

The next morning you groggily stumbled out of your room to find Adam cussing out your stove only to become sheepish once he became aware of your presence, “wanted to properly thank you with some breakfast but ‘fraid I only know how to cook on an open fire.”

Your sleep-addled brain could only focus on the fact that Adam was still without a shirt and now with the morning sun streaming through the windows you could actually see the shadows cast by his rather sculpted chest. His arms were thick with corded muscles and his shoulders broad and dusted with a smattering of moles. It took a couple seconds and a series of rapid blinks for you to fully register that you were blatantly ogling the man. With a small shake of your head, you tried to rub the lingering weight of dreams from your eyes and shuffled closer to the stove.

“I promised to cook for you anyway. Go sit and rest.” You spoke through a yawn, purposefully avoiding looking at him any more, not wanting to see or know if he caught your moment of weakness.

“Let me at least help,” Adam said stubbornly as he moved to be in your way, seemingly not caring about the effect his body had on your mental state, “I can manage cracking eggs.”

“Fine,” you sighed, dancing around him with a purposefully wide berth in order to start the stove. As you both worked on making breakfast, Adam seemed doggedly insistent on getting as close as possible without touching you, occasionally letting his hands brush against yours as if on purpose. After the 5th time of this, you peeked up at him, suspicious of the actions too deliberate to be mere coincidence and you found him giving you a playfully sly sideways glance wearing a wry smirk. Your eyebrows nearly smacked your hairline as it became clear that he was indeed doing this on purpose and heat rose up your neck to rest on your cheeks. Unsure of how to proceed your movements became rigid as your brain struggled to think even a second ahead. Sensing this, Adam took a step back and just as stubbornly kept his hands away from yours.

Immediately you missed the fleeting sensation of his warmth and took the next opportunity to brush your hands once again. This made Adam pause and you risked peering up at him to find him leveling you with an even, open stare that held a specter of hope. Pressing your lips together, you felt them falter against a smile and watched as a bright grin stretched across his face. Cooking resumed and now Adam took every excuse to maintain some part of him touching you. His hands flying around from resting against yours to trailing his fingers down from your shoulder to your elbow or just settling his palm against your hip and absently tracing patterns with his fingers into the fabric of your sleep shirt.

The pattern of contact remained even as you moved to the table to begin eating, his knee adamant about constantly touching your leg. You shared the meal in silence, occasionally catching each other trying to gaze at the other and both dropping your eyes to smile at your plates. Once finished, Adam reached across the table to take one of your hands in his, fingers easily slipping between yours and lifting your hand to his lips to press a chaste kiss to the back, just below your knuckles.

“Thank you,” He earnestly spoke as he eased his grip and let your hand fall back to the table. His clear gaze felt heavy and you both took the long moment to openly stare at each other until the tenderness began to feel suffocating. Your throat tightened as his eyes slowly floated to your lips and you found yourself wetting them in anticipation. A flash of hunger sparked in his bright blue eyes and it seemed to shock him out of his trance. He immediately straightened in his chair, breathing deeply as if he had just stopped running.

“The storm passed. I should go.” He muttered distantly, his eyes flying everywhere around the room but you. It stung but you understood. Whatever mess blew him to your doorstep was still outside. You gave a small nod, fighting against everything to not let the disappointment show on your face. A mournful silence fell over you both as he dressed in his bloodstained shirt and damaged vest. You busied yourself with placing the dishes from breakfast into the sink with a reluctant sense of finality.

It was only when he had opened the door and taken a step past the threshold that you broke, “Adam, wait,” it came out like spun glass, shaking and nearly cracking from holding the weight of itself. That fragile sense of control he had wrestled within himself snapped and Adam surged forward, incensed. His hands found their place cupping your face, calluses dragging electric lines across your cheeks, his breath rolling a wave of warmth over your skin and his eyes drowning you in an ocean of emotion as he searched your stare for something. He seemed to have found it once you gave him a soft smile and reached up to tuck one of his golden curls back behind his ear. His lips crashed against yours and without him holding you like the most precious thing in the world you would’ve floated away. You could taste the edge of desperation that ebbed into gentle bliss as you took a half step to press against him, eager to have him close. One of his hands lazily traced down to rest against the side of your neck but before he could deepen the kiss he caught himself and pulled back in order to rest his forehead against yours.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” He admitted with a breathless smile, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone.

“Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t mind if you did it again,” You whispered, practically aching to have him close again. He bit down on his grin, eyes alight and sparkling with joy as he pressed a fleeting kiss to the tip of your nose before turning to kick your front door shut. The sheer eagerness and sense of urgency he had made you burst into laughter, which made it rather difficult for him to kiss you again but he somehow managed.


End file.
